


His Jiminy Cricket

by Minuete



Series: His and Her Angst [5]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Abduction Arc, Author Is Sleep Deprived, F/M, Fox Mulder Angst, Post-Ascension, battling writer's block, post-3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 15:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuete/pseuds/Minuete
Summary: Mulder angst in the midst of the Abduction Arc.





	His Jiminy Cricket

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having writer's block with The Basket, and my sleep-deprived state has an easier time honing in on Mulder angst than progressing a fan fiction storyline.

“Come on, Mulder. Rise and shine,” Scully’s soothing voice coaxed him to wake up, “You’ll be late for your meeting with Skinner.” 

Mulder groaned as he slowly rolled over on his coach, his back facing the TV. He swears he hears Scully shuffle behind him. 

“Mulder, you know you can’t miss this meeting. It regards me,” she sighs. 

“I know, I know…” Mulder mumbles in response as he rolls onto his belly and slowly pushes up from his couch, “Okay…I’m awake, Scully.” He opens his eyes then, greeted by the streams of light coming through his blinds. The gurgling fish tank the only sound coming from his apartment as he looks down at his coffee table covered with newspaper clippings of UFO sightings and a newsletter from the local MUFON chapter.  Mulder sinks back on the couch.  He bites his lower lip to keep it from trembling as his hand consciously reaches up to Scully’s necklace that practically places him in a chokehold; it would explain why his lungs feel constricted, why his chest hurt so much since he left Los Angeles.  The cross makes an imprint on his thumb and the crook of his index finger once he releases his tight grip. Mulder wishes it were a branding, a reminder of his failure to reach Scully in time.  

He wonders if this is how it will be: she his Jiminy Cricket in his mind’s eye-- her voice of reasoning volleying contradicting, logical theories to his unconventional ones—if she doesn't return, if he can't find her.  Mulder squashes the possibility.  His phone rings interrupting his morose thoughts.  

He answers it tersely before the first ring ends, “Mulder.” 

“Fox?” Margaret Scully’s voice hesitant on the other end. 

“Mrs. Scully,” Mulder greets again shifting his tone to become more endearing, “I’m still trying to search for leads on Dana… I’m going to have a meeting with my supervisor regarding the investigation.” He hears a sigh on the other end, one out of reserved anguish. 

“Fox, I would like you to join me this afternoon to pick out Dana’s headstone.” 

 

 

 


End file.
